


with you in my arms what more do i need

by ever3tt



Category: Voltron - Fandom
Genre: Arctic Monkeys - Freeform, Blowjobs, Broken Hearts, Dorks in Love, Drinking & Talking, Fluff, Gay Keith, Gay Panic, Happy Ending, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Idiots in Love, Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Second Chances, Smut, Some angst, bi lance, chapter titles are song names, friends to lovers to friends to lovers, gay confusion, gender neutral pronouns for pidge, gonna switch back and forth between present and past, happiness, heavy makeout scenes?, hunk is the sweetest most wholesome friend, klance, pidge i love you please get some sleep, probably sex, re falling in love, shiro is the best big brother anyone could ask for, some flashbacks to the past, some kinda unhealthy coping mechanisms, song references galor, yes i did write this instead of doing my hw and studying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2019-08-21 20:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16583990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ever3tt/pseuds/ever3tt
Summary: “Sometimes I’d think about calling you when I’d had a few.” He rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms and blinks a few times, then looks right into Lance’s wide blue eyes. “Shiro always talked me down though.”“What would you have said?” Lance asks with baited breath.“Probably some variation of what I’m trying not to say now.” And is it just him or is Lance’s face closer than before?“And what’s that?” His words are practically a whisper.That I love you still. That I need you. That if I close my eyes right now I can remember every freckle, mole and birth mark on your whole body. That we could be together if you wanted to. I want us to be together. Please say you do too. But he doesn’t say those things because as impulsive as he is he’s learned just a bit of restrain over the last couple years. He clears his throat and knows he’s flushed a deep crimson as he says, “That I’ve been on the cusp of kissing you all night.”Lance’s mouth parts into a tiny o and Keith’s eyes are drawn to the other boys soft plush pink lips that he’s tasted so many times before and craves so much now and he just can’t take his eyes off them so he sees as much as hears Lance say, “So kiss me.”





	1. do i wanna know

**Author's Note:**

> The arctic monkeys am album klance fic that no one asked for but I needed to write because every time I listened to those songs all I could see was klance fluff and angst so here take it and I hope you enjoy it. Basically each song is a chapter and it’s not perfect but I think it’s pretty close. flips back and forth between past and present. Friends to lovers to friends to lovers

Music pumps through speakers, so loud Keith can feel the beat vibrating through the floor, into his feet and through his whole body. He pushes through the clusters of people standing around, red cups and beer cans in hand, scanning faces for one in particular. It feels like ages since Lance stumbled away from him saying he was going to get them another drink, promising that he’d ‘just be a sec’. Keith had let him go because he’d needed five minutes alone to collect his thoughts and calm down because Jesus fucking Christ those electric blue eyes and stupidly adorable lopsided smile were getting to him again.

The sinking feeling of doom had started seeping into his system a few weeks ago when what was supposed to have been a study session with Lance had turned into a movie night where they fell asleep together in Lance’s bed against each other, which wasn’t exactly the end of the world because best friends shared beds, it had been really late and they’d both been really tired. That alone wouldn’t have been a problem if Keith hadn’t woken up to Lance laying across his chest, face inches from his own. A soft smile spread across his lips, he gently brushed back the hair that was in Lance’s face, slack from sleep, the word ‘cute’ popping into his head. Except that’s exactly what happened.

Of course he’d immediately started to panic afterwards when his sleep addled brain had cleared with the sudden realization that the liquid warmth spreading through his chest wasn’t exactly a platonic feeling. That they weren’t in senior year anymore. That they were in third year university.

Thankfully Lance was a deep sleeper so Keith had managed to slip out from under him and have his freak out in the bathroom alone in peace. He told himself that after a decade of being best friends obviously he felt affectionate about Lance. That being the gay twenty-year-old that he was he wasn’t blind to Lance’s obvious good looks. But Keith knew he was lying to himself, that it was more than that. He knew that what he was feeling right now were the same feelings he’d started to recognize junior year that he’d buried for both their sakes but had never quite gone away.

 

After pining after Lance for the entirety of grade eleven the universe had finally given him a break. The summer before senior year Lance and Keith started dating because for some reason the feelings Keith had for Lance were mutual and in his last year of high school he had been happier than he ever remembered being before. He had great grades, an amazing group of friends, a supportive big brother and Lance freaking McClain was his boyfriend. Unfortunately, as all things do eventually, senior year came to an end and after spending a full day in bed curled into each other Keith and Lance decided they had to breakup and go back to just being friends because Lance was getting his marine biology degree at a university that was a plane ride away. They’d known themselves well enough to know that a long-distance relationship would have been too painful for the both of them.

Keith had thought he’d been making the right decision, that this way he could keep Lance in his life without thei relationship getting strained and awkward. That things would just go back to being the way they’d been like before they’d dated, that they’d be fine, that he’d be fine. But the moment Lance had let go of him, had stepped out of his embrace, eyes watery and red rimmed, Keith had known deep down that he’d made a mistake. But Lance had walked away, down the hall, around the corner and had gotten into a line that would take him through a security check before he got on a plane that would take him far away. And he hadn’t looked back.

So for their first year apart Keith had done his best to go back to the way things had been. Turns out it’s not that easy.

-x-

It had all gone down hill from there. After the study session / movie night / resurrection of deeply buried feelings. Not with their friendship, thankfully that was still normal, or at least as normal as it could be after dating your childhood best friend of eleven years for a year before splitting for a year then having said friend transfer to his dream university for his second year because Lance had re-applied and gotten in. As normal as it could be when Keith’s whole body had filled with hope when Lance told him over facetime that he’d only be forty-five minutes away instead of hours and hours and hours. As normal as it could be when Keith still hadn’t gathered the courage to ask Lance about whether they should give their relationship another go. As normal as it could be when he found himself constantly on the cusp of trying to kiss him.

Lance was of course totally oblivious to the jolts of electricity he sent through Keith every time the physically affectionate boy pulled him into a hug, leaned into him or played with his hair. The inner conflict in Keith raged every time the other boy walked around in only his pyjama pants, made him blush heavily every time his friend winked at him jokingly, made him aware of how attractive and smart and funny Lance was every time he did anything remotely _Lance_. Reminded him why he’d fallen for the other boy in the first place, why he still had feelings for him now. It made Keith want to set himself on fire. If this stupid crush ruined their friendship Keith wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t hurl himself off a cliff. So he just kept it all nicely bottled up. Except in moments like these when it all threatened to bubble out. Because he couldn’t tell if Lance’s flirty comments were just Lance being Lance or if maybe Keith’s resurrected feelings were mutual and Lance was trying to hint at wanting them to get together again.

Five minutes after Lance had disappeared amongst the other people at the party in search of something else to drink Keith finished giving himself a pep talk slash reminder. It was definitely just the alcohol in his system that was making his head fuzzy and screwing with his depth perception and not at all a smart idea to spill his heart out to Lance right now and say things he couldn’t take back tomorrow.

Dating his best friend once was already too fucking cliché. Like something straight out of one of the romance movies Lance forced him to watch on movie nights when it was just the two of them instead of the whole group because he enjoyed them so much and even though Keith hated them and would argue that they weren’t realistic he folded every time because they made Lance happy and some part of his brain had at some point made keeping Lance happy priority number one. He wasn’t sure if the universe was helping or taunting him by plucking Lance up out of his far off campus and putting them so close together again. Were they just meant to be friends? Was this the universes way of giving them another chance?

He desperately didn’t want to make things weird by asking Lance about a do-over if Lance didn’t feel the same but Keith just couldn’t seem to keep his thoughts from going to the gutter when tipsy Lance jokingly slid his hands across Keith’s chest, beads of sweat rolling down the sides of his face, a smile twitching at the edges of his lips. When Lance threw his head back, exposing his throat, and laughed at Keith’s shocked face. He couldn’t not think about how he’d once sucked delicate dark marks all over the smooth tan skin there, and farther down. It felt like he was remembering something from both yesterday and a lifetime ago. He’d never ever get tired of hearing that laugh.

But those weren’t thoughts friends were supposed to have about each other so he’d muttered to Lance about needing water to sober up a bit. Lance had only whined about not wanting to sober up and had walked off for more alcohol instead. Which is when Keith had tried to calm down. But five minutes of waiting for Lance to come back turned into ten and when he pulled his phone out for the sixth or seventh time to check how long he’d been waiting and the glowing screen told him that it had been fifteen minutes since Lance had tripped over his own feet to get them both more beer. Worry turned into anxiety that itched beneath his skin and made his chest tight.

 _Stupid Lance and his stupid Friday night ideas for what qualified as a good time._ _Of course, to Lance these parties probably did fit the bill,_ Keith thought fondly, _social butterfly that is._

So that’s how he found himself searching some random frat house on Lance’s university campus looking for said dumbass who’d gotten himself lost. He had to burrow deep for patience to not just elbow his way through the people in his way and did his best to grit out an “excuse me” or “sorry” every once and awhile. However his patience was dwindling when searching the back yard, basement and first floor had resulted in a pool of half naked young adults, a beer pong competition, a girl vomiting her guts out over the porch railing into a bush with a friend who was holding her hair back, many couples making out and a bathroom full of guys getting high who’d yelled at him to shut the door but no Lance.

 _It’s fine,_ he told himself _, there’s still the second floor._

Sure enough Keith was only half way up the creaky carpeted flight of stairs when he heard a familiar voice belting the lyrics to Umbrella by Rihanna. He trudged down the hall to a room with strobe lights and a screen for karaoke where sure enough Lance was standing on a table and singing his heart out. Half the room was singing along with him. The bright smile on the Cuban boys face was enough to make the rising frustration in Keith melt away. When the song ended Keith pushed off from where he’d leaned against the wall and approached Lance who bowed before he handed the mic off to a girl with purple hair. He glanced around the table and looked like he was about to jump off. Keith quickened his pace and reached a hand out to Lance to help him down, so he didn’t fall on his face in his tipsy haste.

“What happened to getting us drinks?” he asked, tone teasing.

Lances smile grew wider, if that was even possible, the moment his eyes landed on him which made Keith’s stomach swoop. The other boy gripped his hand tightly and even though the table wasn’t even that far off the ground needed a steadying hand from Keith at his back as well to keep him from falling. Colour swept across Lance’s face from the strobe lights and Keith’s breath caught in his throat. There was colour in the tan boys’ cheeks, his short brown hair stood up on end, chest rising and falling faster than usual from singing which gave him a breathless look that reminded Keith of the dreams he’d had every night that week featuring Lance sporting the exact same look but for far less innocent reasons than karaoke.

Images started to form and Keith’s hands twitched at his sides, longing to cup Lance’s face. He cleared his throat awkwardly and tore his eyes away from his best friend’s face.

Lance wraps an arm around Keith’s waist and leans in close. “Keith, buddy, my man.” His hot breath ghosts across the shell of Keith’s ear and he barely holds back a shiver, barely keeps himself from leaning closer to Lance’s face and closing the distance between their lips. “I am so sorry but you know how I am when it comes the karaoke at parties. I can’t resist.”

“Can’t resist making a fool of yourself?”

“Why are you so mean to me?” Lance whines, but Keith knows he’s joking because his arm tightens around Keith’s waist and then he’s clutching a handful of Keith’s shirt. “Everyone likes my singing, even you!”

“Oh yeah? How do you know that? Maybe I hate your singing.” He’s not sure why he says that. To get a rise out of Lance? To get him frustrated and worked up because Keith finds that version of Lance so incredibly attractive? What he doesn’t expect is for Lance to say,

“When I sing in the shower when we have sleepovers you always hum the songs I sing that morning for the rest of the day.” Light sweeps across Lance’s face again and there’s a smug grin in place.

Keith tenses a bit because he hadn’t been aware of that little fact and he definitely hadn’t been aware of Lance knowing that. “Yeah because you sing catchy songs. Doesn’t mean I like your voice.” Okay, so not the best excuse but he’s having a bit of a Gay Panic right now.

Lance pouts. “But don’t you? 

God if Lance only knew how much Keith liked hearing him sing, how much he enjoyed their sleepovers, how much he missed hearing Lance getting ready in the mornings. Through elementary school to high school their sleepovers had been a lot more consistent, most weekends, than they were now that their campuses were forty-five-minute drive apart on a good day and school was so much more demanding than it had been when they’d been younger.

He sighed. “Yeah, Lance, I do.” Typically he wouldn’t have admitted it so easily but he was a sucker for Lance’s pout and he was hoping that Lance wouldn’t remember this detail tomorrow morning.

At that Lance’s pout disappeared and he was back to his bubbly self. Keith tries not to protest when Lance slides his arm from Keith’s waist but then he’s sliding it into his hand and tugging him out of the strobe lit room and down the hall where it’s just a bit quieter. “I wanna find some vodka or tequila or something,” Lance tells him and Keith has to hold back a groan. Sober Lance is touchy enough but tipsy Lance is even worse and Keith worries that if Lance does shots it’ll drive him up the wall and across the ceiling.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough tonight?”

Lance hums thoughtfully as he pulls Keith into the kitchen. “Maybe, but you haven’t.”

“Lance, I’m our driver. I can’t have anymore.”

“My place isn’t that far off campus. We can leave the car here and come back tomorrow,” Lance says, head in a cupboard. “Aha!” he exclaims as he turns around holding a bottle. “Live a little Keith. Take some risks. Take a shot with me.”

And he’s weak, he’s so weak, because he can’t say no. Lance could ask him to do anything right now and he wouldn’t be able to say no. “Fine,” he sighs, resigned to his fate.

Lance woops. “Let’s go sit out on the front porch. I wanna see the stars.”

Is that weird? Not as weird as some as the other things drunk Lance has wanted or done before so Keith just follows him through the house and out the front door.

Lance sits down at the top of the porch steps and Keith hesitates before joining him. They pass the vodka back and forth a few times and he tries to be subtle as he stares at Lance who’s staring up at the stars. A few minutes later Lance turns his face from the sky to Keith and he’s so caught off guard that he doesn’t look away fast enough. Once their eyes meet Keith can’t look away and he sees something soft in Lance’s expression that makes him pause.

 _Do I wanna know?_ Keith wonders. _If this feeling flows both ways._

What if Lance wants him as badly as he wants Lance?  Is that even a possibility?

“Hunk wants us all to hang out tomorrow,” Lance tells him.

“As long as he doesn’t try to teach us all how to make perogies again I’m down.”

Lance cackles. “Yeah, that did not go well, did it?”

“I feel like we should have seen that disaster coming when he told us we’d have to wake up at 6:00am on a Saturday.”

Lance shakes with laughter. “When Pidge walked in and we all realized she hadn’t even gone to sleep the night before because of that robotics project.”

“And then the coffee machine broke.”

Lance shudders. “Sleep deprived and uncaffeinated Pidge is scary.”

Keith nods in agreement. “So how’s the McClain clan?” he asks.

Lance’s beams and starts to tell him about how his niece Rosie just lost her first tooth and how big Ben has gotten. Keith settles against the porch railing and leans his head back as he listens. It’s been a year since he’s seen any of the other McClain’s and truth be told he really misses them. Keith would honestly be happy to just sit and listen to Lance talk about his family, all big arm gestures, eyes alight with happiness the way they always are when he talks about them.

“Anyway now that you’re caught up you gotta tell me, are there any cute boys at your school who you’ve got your eye on?” Keith doesn’t even know what to say to that question because recently he hasn’t been paying attention to other boys. He’s been too busy pinning over Lance to fall for someone new. So instead of saying anything he just shrugs and takes another sip of the vodka. The liquid burns down the back of his throat and makes his face twist which makes Lance laugh. Keith blushes hard but doesn’t look away even though his heart sinks just a bit. Why would Lance ask that if he was into him? He wouldn’t, right? Which means this awfully colossal crush he has isn’t mutual, right?

“Oh come on Keith, there has to be at least one cute boy in one of your classes,” Lance insists, shifting to face him more fully. But Keith is barely hanging onto his words because Lances leg is now fully pressed up against the side of his own and even just that contact has him reeling. This boy is going to be the death of him.

“I don’t know,” Keith shrugs again. “I mean, I guess, statistically there has to be?”

“ _Statistically_ ,” Lance snorts. “What, have you like not dated anyone since we broke up?” Lance laughs but stops when he realizes that Keith isn’t laughing with him. “Wait, really?”

“I’ve been busy with school,” Keith trips on the words as they come out of his mouth. Lance sees right through him because of course he does. It’s Lance. Something flickers in the Cuban boys expression and his eyes go soft. Keith feels breathless.

“I missed you. You know that right?” Lance’s eyes are watching him and their bare for Keith to read and he thinks he knows what he’s seeing but he’s terrified he’s wrong.

His throat is thick but he squeezes out his words. “Yeah, I know. I missed you too.”

“Why was it always me calling you first then?” And that’s when Keith just knows it’s all going to come tumbling out because he’s tipsy and Lance looks hurt right now and Keith feels like the worst person in the world for making him look that way. He’s terrified of being rejected but the vodka has given him the courage he didn’t have before and he just wants to know if Lance’s heart is still open and if so what time it shuts.

“Because it always hurt,” he admits, looking away from Lance.

“What do you mean?” Lance’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion.

“I missed you so badly when you left. I used to fall asleep listening to songs that reminded me of you and let them play on repeat until I’d fall asleep. It was a playlist with a bunch of Beyoncé and Ariana Grande and Shakira and other bubble gum pop songs you like.” Keith looks down at his hands knowing how pathetic that sounds. “Hearing your voice hurt so much when you were so far away and I couldn’t hold you, kiss you, touch you or feel your skin at the end of the day. When you’d facetime me and talk about your new room mate and the kids in your classes and your teachers and whatever ridiculous adventures you went on all I could think of was how I wasn’t there with you. And we weren’t, you know, _together_ anymore so I couldn’t exactly tell you all that.” Keith can feel the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. He’s not usually much of a crier but Lance makes him feel so much more than he’s used to anything else making him feel.

Lance is quiet and Keith is sure he read everything wrong and the other boy’s about to tell him that he should have just moved on when they broke up or something like that but instead he says, “For how long?”

“What do you mean?”

“How long did you feel like that, Keith?”

“The whole damn time. Until you told me about how you got in here.”

Lance looks pained. “Really?”

Keith nods. “Sometimes I’d think about calling you when I’d had a few.” He rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms and blinks a few times, then looks right into Lance’s wide blue eyes. “Shiro always talked me down though.”

“What would you have said?” Lance asks with baited breath.

“Probably some variation of what I’m trying not to say now.” And is it just him or is Lance’s face closer than before?

“And what’s that?” His words are practically a whisper.

 _That I love you still. That I need you. That if I close my eyes right now I can remember every freckle, mole and birth mark on your whole body. That we could be together if you wanted to. I want us to be together. Please say you do too._ But he doesn’t say those things because as impulsive as he is he’s learned just a bit of restrain over the last couple years. He clears his throat and knows he’s flushed a deep crimson as he says, “That I’ve been on the cusp of kissing you all night.”

Lance’s mouth parts into a tiny o and Keith’s eyes are drawn to the other boys soft plush pink lips that he’s tasted so many times before and craves so much now and he just can’t take his eyes off them so he sees as much as hears Lance say, “So kiss me.”

And that’s all Keith needs to hear before consequences be damned his mouth is on Lance’s and their lips are moving fast and needy and it’s so hot and holy fucking hell he missed this sososososososo much. He breathes in the smell of Lance, his hair product and cologne and undertone of sweat from dancing and singing and they all mix together sweetly into this smell that is so totally uniquely _Lance_ and he can’t get enough. This is what he’s been missing for months and months and months and finally he has it again. The taste and touch and smell of him. Of Lance. Right under his fingers as the other boy shifts himself and then Keith is leaning back and Lance is sprawled on top of him, between his legs, and their kissing and then Lance’s hands are in his hair and he can’t bite back that groan anymore when Lance tugs on it gently and his scalp tingles just a bit. Then his hands are in Lance’s wavy brown hair and he’s never touched hair this soft on anyone else’s head and then they’re up Lance’s shirt and feeling his tanned skin and jesus fuck he can barely get enough oxygen into his lungs. His fingers trace up Lance’s back and over his ribs and skim his belly button and his tummy and then they’re cupping Lance’s ass and Keith would be lying if he ever said he didn’t love Lance’s ass. Lance moans sweetly when Keith squeezes it and he’s having so many flash backs to senior year of high school, to all of their firsts, but Lance is even longer and leaner and deeper and broader and Keith could die right now and he’d be full of nothing but pure bliss because he has Lance in his arms again.

What more could he ever even need?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. r u mine?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance's POV of a memory from first year of uni and of the morning after

Despite the amount of money Lance pays to attend Altea Acandemy the dorms are your everyday cinder block dorms with four walls that are far too close to one another, only big enough to squish in two beds, one for Lance and one for his roommate, and two desks. The beds aren’t comfortable and the desks are small. However, the teachers are nice and the students are friendly. He’s been here for a few months now and while he’s enjoying his classes well enough he’s at the point in the semester where he’s hitting his head against his desk with how much work he’s managed to let build up.

He’s currently sitting on his bed, half sitting up half laying down against his headboard and pillows, as he stares at his computer screen while he waits for Keith to answer his skype call. It’s a Sunday afternoon but Lance is already stressed for the week ahead and those Sunday blues are starting to set in. His skype calls with Keith are always a silver lining because he always manages to put Lance in a better head space.

It’s at that moment that Keith’s face fills Lance’s computer screen and Lance props himself up a bit. “Keith, my man!” he exclaims.

Keith gives him a small smile and his image gets pixel-y as he shifts. “Hey Lance.”

Lance grins widely. “So what’s shakin’ bacon? What’s new and interesting?” he asks, hoping Keith has a new conspiracy theory to tell him about or a funny story about Pidge or Hunk. Don’t get him wrong, Lance is super appreciative to be getting a good education at Altea Academy but it’s just so far from his friends and family and Keith. He really misses him. _Them,_ Lance inwardly patronizes himself. _He misses them._ A small part of him argues that Keith is his all time best friend of over a decade and was for the last year of high school his boyfriend so it makes sense for Lance to miss him more than everyone else considering how close they were. He quickly shuts those thoughts down because they never get him anywhere other than feeling extremely homesick and nostalgic and overall gloomy and sad. That’s not what he wants to be thinking about right now.

“Not much,” Keith says, shrugging his shoulders, shifting tendrils of his long black hair. He’s really let it grow out. When Lance last saw him in person it was still about an inch from brushing his shoulders. Part of him wishes he could reach between their screens separating them and tie it back into a ponytail so he can see more of Keith’s face.

“Awwh come on Keith,” Lance whines. “There’s gotta be something interesting that’s happened since we last skyped.”

“We skyped last Sunday. Not only that but you also call me every like three days and text me every day.” From almost anyone else Lance would have felt like he was being clingy and annoying but it was different with Keith.

“Yeah but we haven’t talked yet today. What’s new today?”

“Uhh,” Keith scrunched his eyebrows together and bites his lip in thought. “Shiro came over with Adam. They both pestered me about taking better care of myself.”

Lance snorted. “It’s not funny!” Keith protested. “It’s actually really annoying. I’m an adult and I don’t need to be scolded for my eating and sleep habits.”

He supresses his laughter when he sees that Keith doesn’t look like he’s joking. “What was the last thing you ate?”

“Waffles?”

“Who made them?”

“…Shiro.”

“Uh huh,” Lance snickered. “And how much sleep did you get last night?”

Keith is starting to scowl. “I don’t know. Pidge and I stayed up playing Mario kart.”

“So like three hours?”

Keith doesn’t even answer him, just glares. Lance smiles smugly. “Yeah, _‘Adult’_ my ass,” he scoffs.

“Shut up McClain. Like you’re much better.”

Lance gasps dramatically and presses a hand over his heart in mock horror. “Why Keith, I am offended. I, unlike you, wash my dishes and clothes without having to be reminded by my older brother or boyfriend.”

Keith stills on the other end and Lance blinks, cold settling over him as he realizes what he just said. “Sorry, it slipped-“

The other boy won’t look at him anymore and Lance feels his stomach drop. “I, uh, actually think I have to go-”

“No, Keith, I’m sorry. I really want to talk to you.” A weird twisty feeling is filling Lance’s gut as he desperately tries to patch things up.

“I have a lot of work to do. Bye Lance.”

“Keith-” But he’s already hung up.

Lance sits there just staring at his blank screen for so long that when he finally shifts his laptop off his stomach the sun has started to set outside his window. He stands off his bed and stretches, his back pops. He stands there feeling numb and just wills himself not to cry. He holds his sides and rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet as he chews on the inside of his cheek.

 _Dios_ , he misses Keith so badly. Wants to go back to what they were before he moved away more than anything else in the world. He’s like a fucking puppet on a string. He’d do anything to impress him, to make Keith happy, to make him smile. To get him back. But he feels like he’s years too late. He can’t even accidentally bring it up without Keith hanging up on him. The reason that they broke up to begin with was to avoid it getting awkward and strained but things were like that now anyway.

If Lance could reverse time he’d go back to the day he’d suggested the worst idea in his life and tell his past self that he and Keith should at least try long distance and to believe in themselves enough to give it a chance. He’d tell himself that he thought he knew what he was doing but he really didn’t. That he thought he’d be able to get over it but he wouldn’t. That even months later satisfaction would feel like a distant memory because despite trying to move on he wouldn’t want anyone but Keith.

But he couldn’t go back in time. Instead he was stuck with the crappy reality that his dumb ass had broken up with the best person in his life. He was going to go crazy cause here isn’t where he wanted to be. Lance wanted in that moment so desperately to be back home. He wanted to be back with Keith. He had to talk to someone right now or he was going to dissolve into a pathetic puddle of tears. But Keith, the person he used to talk to about everything, didn’t want to talk to him right now. He fell back into his bed and scrolled through his contacts and found the name of the next person who always helped him through his problems. He clicked on Hunks name.

-x-

Waking up in bed next to Keith Kogane wasn’t a wholly new experience for him but it was one he hadn’t expected to be having that morning. They both still had all their clothes on, their shoes too, they weren’t even under the covers, but Lance felt a wave of memories slam through him of early mornings and late afternoons of waking up to Keith beside him, under him, on him, sometimes tucked into and other times curled around him. He stared at the other boys face, so gentle and soft while he slept, his hair haloing around his head on his pillow.

Lance’s head pounded from a killer hangover and he cursed tipsy Lance for his choices. So it was with a throbbing headache and frantic heartbeat that Lance rolled out of Keith’s bed and shuffled out of the room and down the hall to a small bathroom where he closed and locked the door. The first thing he did was remove his eye contacts because his eyes felt dry and a bit itchy since he’d fallen asleep with them in. He rooted around in the cabinet under the sink for some eyedrops and only flinched a bit when he squeezed a couple drops into each eye. He blinked quickly to clear his vision as best he could before he unbuckled his jeans to pee. Flushing and washing his hands he dried them on his pants before he slid down to the floor and leaned his head back against the door. Reaching into his front pocket he sighed out a breath of relief when he felt the shape of his phone and fished it out. It recognized his fingerprint and he thumbed into the green phone app and went to his favourites and clicked on Hunks name.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he held his phone to his ear and listened as it rung a couple times before Hunk picked up. “Lance, you okay buddy?” The boys voice sounded unused, like he’d just woken up.

“If I woke you up I’m so sorry and you can go back to sleep,” Lance apologized, all his words coming out in a rush.

“Lance what’s wrong?” Hunk asked. Lance let out half a tiny dry sob. “Buddy talk to me? Where are you? Do you need me to come pick you up?”

“I’m with Keith,” he managed, voice quiet and wobbly.

Hunk was quiet. “Did you guys fight?”

“No. We made out last night. A lot.”

He heard Hunk suck in a breath. “Oh Lance.” He squeezed his eyes shut against the wetness gathering at the corners of his eyes. “So what’s going on?”

“I don’t know. He’s still asleep. I woke up beside him, not like with him,” he clarified, “but still. It’s making me think about when we were still together. Hunk I want it to go back to that so badly.”

“I mean you guys made out last night Lance. Did he say anything?”

“Not like specifically about getting back together. But I don’t know, we’re not a plane ride apart anymore, why shouldn’t we be?”

“You could ask him?” Hunk suggests, as if that’s not the worst idea in the world.

“I can’t straight up just ask him Hunk! What if he’s moved on?”

“If he moved on why would he kiss you?” Can’t argue with that logic.

“Jesus Christ, I am going to just have to ask him, aren’t I?”

“It’s easier than overthinking everything he says and does.”

“Why do you always have to be right about everything?”

Hunk laughs. “Text me later Lance. Goodluck.”

He sits against the door for another five minutes, trying not to freak out. Keith kissing him meant he still had feelings, right? Or had it just been a tipsy impulsive thoughtless action? Did Keith just want to be friends now? Was he just self projecting his feelings? Hunk was right. There really was only one way to know for sure. He stood up and stared at himself in the mirror above the sink. It was spotted with water. In the mirror his face was reflected. He looked the way he felt. Tired and sore. He was never going to drink again. He splashed water in his face before he opened the bathroom door and padded back down the hall to Keith’s room.

Lance peered in and saw that the raven haired boy was still asleep. Cracking the door open further he slipped in. Afternoon sunlight streamed in through the window and gave the room a warm glow. The walls were plain white and had a couple Depeche Mode and other emo band posters on them. There was a bookshelf on the other wall and more above the bed. Keith had always been into sci-fi, horror and mystery novels. Without contacts or his glasses Lance had to squint at the spines to read their titles. It seemed he’d added a few about aviation and space. There was a desk under the window piled high with textbooks and a laptop. A familiar leather jacket hung off the back of the desk chair.

“Snooping?”

Lance jumped and spun around. “Keith, you’re awake!” Golden light lit the pale boys face and shone off his dark hair. Only one of his eyes was half open as he squinted against the bright sunlight.

“Mhmm.” Keith stretched like a cat and sighed contentedly. It was at that moment that Lance’s stomach rumbled. He felt his cheeks flush pink as Keith gave him an amused look. “Hungry?”

“Starving.” Lance gave him a sheepish grin.

“You shoulda woken me up.” Keith pushed himself off the bed but immediately covered his face with his hands and groaned. “Jesus, I’m never drinking again.”

Lance chuckled. “You have any Advil?”

“Yeah, c’mon.”

Lance followed him down the hall to the bathroom where Keith opened the same cabinet door Lance had found the eyedrops in and located a small container. “Cups are in the kitchen,” Keith said and they kept walking down the hall until they entered another small white walled sunlit room.  The floor was made of tiny checkered tiles. Keith entered and got them both cups out of the dishwasher, which Lance filled with water while Keith popped open the Advil container and spilled some pills into his palm.

They both traded, Lance a cup for a capsule and Keith vice versa. “Thanks.” They both downed the pill but obviously they’d have to wait awhile before it started to take effect.

“We should eat s’thing cause s’not good to have those on n’empty stomach,” Keith said, words lumping together he was so tired. Lance shouldn’t have found it as cute as he did.

Together they move around the kitchen making breakfast. “What’s the measurement again?” Keith asks.

Lance picks up the box with the pancake mix and squints but can’t quite make out what it says. “I uh had to take my contacts out and can’t really read this without my glasses.” Lance grimaces down at his feet.

Keith takes the box from his hands gently. “I forgot about that,” he chuckles. “Sorry.”

Lance puts bread into the toaster while Keith mixes the batter, pouring it into the pan as Lance butters the toast. As he cuts strawberries and puts them on the plates he got from the cupboard Keith flips the pancakes. He hears the other boys stomach grumble so Lance holds out a strawberry for Keith to eat.

Keith looks at the strawberry then up at Lance before leaning closer, his lips closing around the thick red fruit, taking a bite. Lance watches totally hypnotized as Keith’s lips drip pink juice as he chews. His dark eyes never leaving Lance’s as his tongue darts out trying to catch the juice from dripping. Lance swallows thickly and reaches out, his thumb swiping the juice from the corner of Keith’s mouth. His breath catches in his throat as Keith opens his mouth and sucks on Lance’s thumb, tongue twirling around it, Lance shivers, before pushing it back out, a string of saliva clinging to it. Lance can feel his heart hammering in the cavity of his chest as he glances from Keith’s tantalizing mouth to his glistening digit. Any and all restrain or nervousness dissolves and he cups Keith’s face in his hands, tilting it up, before their mouths meet. It’s a different kind of kiss from the one last night. Last night they’d kissed bruisingly hard and fast. Now they kissed dizzyingly slow and warm, their lips brushing butterfly soft. Keith whimpers quietly and Lance moans at the sound.

He wants so badly to hear Keith say, _“Are you mine?”_ Wants him to ask, knows he’d say yes yes yes a thousand times yes always and forever yes yours and no one else’s yes. He needs the deep end of a relationship. The week long shallow relationships and one night stands he’d tried as a last ditch attempt to get over Keith doing absolutely nothing. Lance craves the connection and conversations. Misses everything.

Wants, needs, craves for Keith to just ask, _“You got me, baby. Are you mine?”_ Just in case he’s mistaken. Just to make sure he really does have a chance. To have Keith make his feelings clear. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up. Doesn’t want to invest if Keith doesn’t feel the same.

Keith’s tongue licks at Lance’s lips and just like that he loses track of time and space. Wants to know if Keith will be his tomorrow or just right now. Are you mine? Are you mine? Are you mine? Are you mine?

“Are you mine?” The words rasp from his throat between kisses.

Keith pulls away far enough for Lance to look and see his face clearly. The other boys pupils are blown wide with lust and his cheeks are tinted pink. He’s so pretty. Keith presses their foreheads together and presses his lips to Lance’s again. Firm this time. “Yes,” he says against Lance’s lips, voice breathless, holding Lance’s face in his two hands. And it’s only one word but it’s the one word Lance needs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. one for the road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow this chapter is the definition of word vomit aha hope you enjoy:)

Lance POV - first year of university

If Lance had access to a time machine and could have gone back in time of all things he’d have done it would have been to make sure he never met Nyma. 

He’d met her in his first year of university, she was one of the first people he met. He’d been fumbling up the stairs of residence with all his boxes trying to find his dorm room when he’d turned a corner and almost run her down. She’d only laughed at his clumsiness. A huge swell of relief washed over him the next day and then continuously again over his first week when he saw a familiar face in the so many of his lecture halls (they were in the same program). Terrified that he wouldn’t make friends at Altea (since all his old ones were going to school back home) Lance had latched onto Nyma. They became extremely close in a short few months. They studied for classes together all the time. Lance’s first hint that something was up was that Nyma was open and flirty when no one else was around but as soon as anyone else came around she became cold and distant. At the time Lance had thought that maybe she was just nervous around new people and awkward in social situations so he hadn’t thought much of it. Throughout the rest of the first term he’d found himself continuously making up excuses for Nyma’s odd behaviour. 

What could he say? Hindsight is a bitch. Looking back he could see so many times he should have known better. But in the moment he couldn’t have known, he didn’t want to know. Hadn't wanted to acknowledge that there was a problem. 

They sat together in Lance’s dorm room, both of them on his bed, with their notes out. 

“Do you maybe want to do something this weekend?’ he asked her. 

“Like what?” Her turquoise acrylic nails clickity clacked against her phone screen as she texted, the light from her phone screen lit up her face. 

“A new paintballing place opened like twenty minutes from here?” he suggested. 

Nyma pulled a face. “Mmm, nah, I just got my nails done. They’d get ruined.”

He tried to laugh it off. “Pfft fair enough.” He racked his brain for another idea. “We could go mini putting?”

She shook her head. “I’ve never really enjoyed golf.”

“Alright, what about brunch?”

Finally she unglued her eyes from her phone screen just to give him a hard, impatient look. “Look, Lance, I just don’t think I’m available.” Lance couldn’t understand why he felt like he’d just been slapped. So he just nodded and turned back to his notes. 

“Hey, do you have that note on the Glaucus Atlanticus?” Lance asked her, attempting to fill in the awkward silence. quickly rifling through his papers trying to find it.

“The what now?” Nyma asked as she pulled a joint out of her front backpack pocket and put it between her lips. Lance hated the smell of those things but Nyma got grumpy if he asked her not to smoke in his room so he’d given up awhile ago. He watched as she lit it. 

“You know, that vivid blue coloured mollusc?” 

“Hmm?” Irritation started to build up in Lance. It was like she wasn’t even paying attention to anything he was saying. “No, I haven't seen it. Sorry.” She blew out a puff of smoke. 

“That’s fine,” he said, “I’m sure I have it somewhere here.”

“Hey, you don’t mind if I take a picture of these do you?”

He bit his lower lip. “Uh, for what?”

“Ug, why do you have to interrogate me on everything I do, Lance! I just want to compare my notes to yours.” 

“Why didn’t you bring your notes today? We could be comparing them right now.”

“Jesus Christ Lance. I lent them to somebody else to look at today that’s why. Here, just let me take pictures.” She opened her phone to the camera and started pulling his notes toward her. And because Lance didn’t have any other friends and didn’t want to lose the only one he had he let her take pictures. 

After months of Nyma always having a reason for why she never brought her own notes to their study sessions he stopped asking and just let her take the pictures because it was easier than arguing about it. Until one day, in second term, she asked if she could photocopy them. 

“Why can’t you just take pictures?”

“Because I’m out of storage, Lance, and I don’t want to pay for more. You understand right, the university student life is an expensive one.” She’d laughed and Lance had tried to laugh along but his gut felt queasy with unease. He was about to say that he’d prefer if she didn’t when she said, “Oh by the way there’s an aquarium I found online that’s a short drive away. Wanna check it out on Saturday?”

He’d been so happy that she finally wanted to do something outside of study sessions and parties that he’d forgotten about his unease of her photocopying his notes. 

Then things started to happen that Lance couldn’t believe he’d forgiven her for. He’d been sitting in the cafeteria, waiting for Nyma to meet up with him when she’d texted him, 

Nyma : Hey Lance! 

I’m so sorry but I can’t come to the aquarium with you today:( something came up

Let’s go some other time! 

Feeling crushed Lance had started to get up from the table. He grabbed the notes he’d been studying while he’d been waiting for Nyma but then someone said, “Hey, you’re Lance right?”

When he looked up, he saw a group up other kids from his class for Introduction to Molecular and Cellular Biology. Lance thinks the boy who addressed him is named Andrew. What caught his attention was what boy and his friends were holding. His notes. Each of them had a copy of his notes. But...how? 

“You get your notes from Nyma too? They’re really good, aren't they?” Andrew asked.

All the dots were there. He just didn’t want to connect them. Hoping that he could find a different picture instead of the one they were clearly portraying. “From… Wait what?”

“How much did she make you pay for them? She charged us $100 each but I guess that’s a pretty good price for all the course material. Have you also been skipping all semester?” Andrew and his friends chuckled at that. 

“She’s getting money?” There had to be another explanation. Why would Nyma sell his notes without asking him?

“Well, yeah, probably a lot,” one of Andrew’s friends said, shrugging. “At the start of the year she only charged $50 but that builds up when you’re paying for notes from every class.”

“What other classes has she been giving you notes for?”

“Here, I’ll show you.” Andrew unzipped his backpack and pulled out a stack of packages. Study packages. Lance flipped through them. Physics for Life Sciences II, General Chemistry II, Biological Concepts of Health. All in his handwriting. Nyma had photocopied the notes Lance had made for all the courses he was taking this semester and was selling them. 

Andrew must have seen the look on Lance’s face. “Hey, man, you okay?” 

Lance couldn’t answer. Words stuck in his throat. He walked away from the table, trying to not cry. That night Nyma texted him about a party she wanted to go to and if Lance had money she could borrow to buy some edibles, Lance didn’t answer. He should have known that wouldn’t work because she showed up at his dorm room. 

“Lance, come out! I know you’re in there! I can see your light on!” He put his earbuds in and turned his music all the way up, but he could still hear her pounding on his door. “Oh come on Lance! I said I was sorry about not being able to go to the aquarium today...It was a family emergency.”

And because he was gullible and naive and wanted to see only the best in people Lance had believed her. He’d opened his door and let her in. Reassuring her for the next two hours about how he was there for her and how sorry he was that her little brother had gotten hit by a car when he was playing basketball in the streets. He didn’t bring up the photocopied notes. 

One day after a particularly depressing skype call with Keith, Lance wanted to talk to Nyma about it. He was frustrated because Keith always had excuses for why he couldn’t facetime or call Lance after Nyma had walked in while they’d been facetiming and drooped herself around his shoulders and kissed his cheek. The reason Lance figured Keith had reacted so badly was because maybe that made it look like he and Nyma were in a relationship. Keith had made some off hand reason he had to go and hung up without waiting for an answer from Lace. Since then Keith had avoided Lance’s calls like they were the plague and his answers to texts were short and stilted.

At the start of his friendship with Nyma she’d always dismissed any conversations about Keith or his friends back home but he figured that they knew each other better now so maybe she’d be more okay with it. 

“I don’t want to hear about your exes, Lance!” Her words stung and Lance inwardly recoiled.

“He’s more than just an ex, Nyma. He’s my bestfriend and I need to talk to someone.”

“What about one of your other old friends?” she snapped. 

“I want to be able to talk to you about this stuff! We talk about your problems all the time why can’t I ever talk to you about mine?”

“That’s not true! Why are you being so mean? I just don’t want to talk about Keith with you.”

“Why not?” he demanded. “Give me one good reason. Why not, Nyma?”

That’s when she’d kissed him. It had shocked him so much that for a good solid five seconds he’d done nothing but stand still. Immobilized. 

“That’s why,” she said.

“You like me?” He’d never even considered dating Nyma. He’d been trying to let go of Keith for months now, sure, with hookups at parties and the like but nothing had worked. Maybe this would. 

Instead of answering she kissed him again. So began their tumultuous relationship. What frustrated Lance most was that their relationship barely changed. Except the sex. It was good, great even, but it felt weird how distant and cold Nyma could get. How much she still kept to herself. Lance wanted things to work out between them so badly. He wanted things to stop being so weird between him and Keith. 

Blonde and blue eyed. Lance wondered how he hadn’t noticed how pretty Nyma was before. 

For a while things were okay. They yelled at each other less and didn’t fight as much. They were a couple weeks away from exams and Lance was waiting outside Nyma’s dorm room, where they’d agreed to study but she was fifteen minutes late. He was sure there was a good reason. 

“Excuse me?” 

Lance glanced up and saw an anxious looking middle aged woman clutching her purse to her chest. “Can I help you?”

“Sorry to bother you but do you know a Nyma?” The woman asked him.

Lance’s brows furrowed. Who was this woman and how did she know Nyma? “Uh, yeah, she’s my girlfriend, why?”

“You’re Rolo?”

Now Lance was even more confused. “No? I’m Lance.”

“Oh, I must have made a mistake.” The woman looked as bewildered and puzzled as Lance felt. “It’s good to meet you Lance. I’m Nyma’s mother. My name’s Valerie.”

They didn’t look very alike. Nyma was blonde, blue eyed and had slim pointed features whereas Valerie had dark auburn hair and a more heavy set figure. “Nice to meet you.”

Valerie glanced up and down the hallway. “Sorry to bother you Lance but do you know where Nyma is?”

He shrugged at her. “We were supposed to meet to study for exams fifteen minutes ago but she’s late.”

Valerie sighed. “Yes, that does sound like Nyma. I always joke with Sal, her father, that she’s got all the opposite qualities an only child. She’s so unorganized, never prioritizes her academic success and definitely isn't a perfectionist.” Valerie chuckled but Lance felt like everything had come to a screeching halt. 

“What do you mean only child?”

“Well Nyma doesn’t have any siblings-”

His thoughts were switching back and forth between spinning and being at a complete standstill. “What about- but- what about the brother that was hit by a car?”

Valerie looked at a loss for words. “I think I would know if I had another child.”

“Mom-?” Lance looked up to see Nyma. Her eyes went back and forth between him and her mother. Her eyes went wide and that’s when Lance walked away. He had that sinking feeling and was doing his best to not fall apart. She was a liar. A manipulative compulsive liar. 

“Lance!”

He whirled around. “You don’t have a little brother.”

“Lance, I-”

His feelings were starting to bubble up from months of not saying anything. “You were selling my notes without even telling me. How much money have you made?”

“Just shut up, Lance, for once in your life! We need to break up.” Lance took a step back like he’d just been slapped. “Things aren’t working out between us. You’re always yelling at me and making absurd accusations and I just can’t handle your temper tantrums anymore. You need to grow up.”

Lance stood there with his mouth gaping open. “Me? I need to grow up? Nyma you’re the one who’s been completely out of hand this entire time!” This conversation was giving him whiplash.

“And here we go with the accusations! Why is everything always my fault, Lance? Why can you never take the blame?”

“What are you even talking about? You’re the one who’s lying all the time. You don’t have a brother who got into an accident, you’ve been making money off my notes-”

“See this is why we need to break up. I just can’t handle you anymore. Goodbye Lance.”

What the fuck? He stared after her, bemuddled, as she walked away from him. Why did it feel like the blackout blinds at a casino at just been pulled black and Nyma was completely fine to see the sun was up but Lance had thought it was still dark outside. Just like that it’s over and Lance knows that no matter what he does now there’s nothing he can do to save their relationship. 

For the next two weeks Lance tried his best to study and focus on school but thoughts of Nyma plagued him. He couldn’t believe how many chances he’d given her. How many times he's forgiven and forgotten. Lance told himself he was glad they were over, that he deserved better, that the reason he was so upset upset was because of all the things she’d done to him and not just because he was scared of being alone. There was no way he could stay at Altea. He knew he was panicking but Lance spent the whole evening applying to universities back home again. He’d already tried them all last year and hadn’t gotten in but he was desperate. 

The night before his first exam he was scrolling through instagram in bed when he came across a photo posted a few hours ago by Nyma’s friend.

It’s a picture of Nyma and some guy he recognizes from around campus and parties. They have their arms wrapped around each other. The caption reads ‘couple goals’ followed by a series of colourful heart emojis. Jealousy stabs through his chest. Then, because Lance apparently likes to make himself miserable, he clicks on the photo and sees that the boy is tagged. He continues to the boys account (@RoloMarrick). Lance wishes more than anything that he hadn’t because upon clicking on the most recent post Lance’s heart sinks to his feet. It’s a picture of the boy with Nyma at the beach, their bodies pressed together, Nyma giving him a kiss on the cheek. The caption reads ‘Thanks for the happiest last year of my life babe<3’. 

Year?

Year???????

Lance can’t process what’s going on. He and Nyma were together then. Before he can think anything through he’s going to Nyma’s contact in his phone and clicking on the call option. When she doesn’t pick he tries again. And again. And again. But she doesn’t answer. Lance shoves back his duvet and pulls on sweatpants, a sweatshirt and a pair of tennis shoes (making sure he has his room key with him) before leaving for Nyma’s room. 

Her place is across campus in a different residence and Lance feels ridiculous doing this but knows he won’t be able to sleep if he doesn’t. He finally gets to Nyma’s room and bangs on her door. When she opens the door though he doesn’t even know what to say. 

“Lance?” She’s standing in the doorway staring at him like he’s got a glittery pink dildo stuck to his forehead. 

“Nyma when did we start dating?” Lance asks. 

She steps out into the hallway and closes the door behind her. “...Lance, what’s going-”

“It was the end of January, Nyma, “ he answers for her. He can hear other people behind her door. 

“What does that have to do with anyth-”

“We broke up, what, two and a half weeks ago?”

“Lance, why are you even here-” She sounds annoyed but he doesn’t care and cuts her off.

“Nyma, who’s this boy on instagram thanking you for the last happiest year of his life and calling you babe?” He waits in silence for an answer as she averts her eyes and stares down the hallway. “Nyma?”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Lance, I feel like you already know the answer.”

His throat tightens and tears sting at his eyes. “Why were we ever together?” He’s begging her for an answer, any answer that will explain things. 

“My answer is only going to hurt your feelings.” He hates the pity in her tone, like she thinks he’s some pathetic loner. “Don’t you think not knowing would be better?”

“If you don’t tell me it’s going to drive me crazy not knowing.” If she doesn’t explain he’ll never get past it, never get over being used and played and taken advantage of. 

“Alright. But I warned you.” She sighs and uncrosses, then recrosses her arms. “Come on.” She opens her dorm room and steps in, leaving the door open for Lance to follow. Nyma lives in one of the 4 person, two bedroom suites that Altea offers. Usually only the most elite students with the best grades get these and Lance wonders how Nyma got one. Her grades are good, Lance knows now that it’s because of his notes, but they aren’t good enough for a suite. Lance follows behind Nyma, past a bedroom and living room where a group of students are sipping out of solo cups and passing around joints. 

When they reach Nyma’s bedroom she boots out two kids that were making out on her roomates bed. She closes the door behind them and motions for Lance to take a seat while she opens a mini fridge and cracks open the lid of a beer. There isn’t really anywhere to sit though. The beds or covered in clothes, binders, makeup bags and hair dryers so he sits on the floor and leans against the bed. Nyma does the same but so she’s leaning against her roomates bed, facing him. Lance vaguely feels like he’s been here before, his memories of this dorm room are all fuzzy and hazzy from nights of too much to drink. “I’m just going to rip off the bandaid Lance. There’s no point sparing any of the ugly details. I came to Altea with a boyfriend, Rolo.” 

Lance remembers Nyma’s mother saying “You’re Rolo?” He remembers being confused but not thinking anything of it. How stupid. 

Nyma continues. “ I met you and you studied so hard and made really good notes and to be honest you were kind of a loner so making you want to be my friend and getting you to give me your notes was easy. I knew a bunch of kids who were too lazy to come to class and saw an opportunity. I started selling your notes and I was making a lot of money so I didn’t want to stop. But then you found out. By then I’d gotten used to having spare cash and didn’t want it to stop so I lied about having a brother that got into an accident because I know you have siblings and I knew it would make you forgive me for selling the notes.”

His mouth feels dry and he’s desperately trying to keep his voice from cracking. “Great. So that explains some of the lying but it still doesn’t make sense why you got me to date you when you had a boyfriend and never liked me in the first place.”

She takes a long chug of her beer. “I knew you didn’t have any other friends, that made getting notes from you easier because you had no one else to hang out with so you were desperate to keep me as a friend so you did whatever I said and gave me anything I asked for. To keep you as a friend though I had to spend time with you and whenever we’d hang out you were always such a downer about your ex-”

He interrupts. “Keith?” What does Keith have to do with anything?

“Yeah, you’re obviously still in love with him. It was really annoying. I figured I was killing two birds with one stone. I’d be your girlfriend so you were even more likely to give me your notes and you’d also shut up about Keith. Then you met my mum-”

“I think I’ve got it from there.” His words are clipped and short. 

“Look, Lance, I’m sorry-” She tries to apologize. 

“Don’t Nyma. I gotta go. Bye.” He gets up from the floor and moves to open her door. 

“Lance?”

He turns. “What?” he snaps. 

She’s holding an unopened beer. “One for the road?” He shakes his head, grabbing the beer and spins on his heel and books it out of her residence as fast as he can. 

On his walk back to his own dorm room, while his thoughts won’t shut up, he knows he shouldn’t but the urge is too strong and he pops open and lets it all wash down his throat. The mixture hits him harder than expected. 

The moment he’s back in his dorm room a dry sob tears out of his throat. Lance tries to keep it down, shaking with tears streaming down his cheeks. He has no idea where to go from here. He thought maybe talking to Nyma would give him some closure in some way but all it did was rub salt into the wound. Lance wants to call Keith but Nyma was right, he’s still in love with the dumb boy and he didn’t want Keith knowing about his collasal fuck up that was his relationship with Nyma. So instead he calls Hunk. 

Lance has grown extremely close with the other boy over the last few months, calling him whenever he has a problem because Keith doesn’t pick up anymore. He hates that there’s so much distance between him and Keith now but he’s so appreciative for the friendship he has with Hunk. They were close in highschool but not as close as Lance was with Keith. Hunk picks up almost immediately, interrupting Lance’s thoughts, “Lance?”

“Hey, Hunk.” He hates how obvious it is that he’s been crying, his voice wet and broken. 

Hunk catches on immediately. “What’s going on buddy?”

Lance spends the next hour on the phone with Hunk and by the end of their call he’s calmed down considerably. His phone chimed during the call and Lance pulled his phone away from his ear to see what it was. An email notification. He only saw it long enough to make out the sender. It was from VLDU. His dream university. “One second Hunk I have to check an email I just got.”

Lance went to his email and held his breath as he clicked on the most recent item in his inbox. His eyes scanned over it. 

Dear Mr. McClain, 

I am delighted to inform you that the Committee on Admissions has admitted you to the class-

“Dios mío.” The spanish tripped off his tongue. He couldn’t believe what he was reading. 

Hunk’s voice was faint as he wasn’t on speaker and Lance was holding the phone away from his ear. “Lance, what’s going on?”

He read the email again, his eyes sweeping the email again. He couldn’t hold it in anymore. “OH MY GOD!”

”Lance, buddy, talk to me. What’s happening?” Hunk’s voice was full of worry. 

“HUNK I GOT IN!” He almost dropped his phone he was shaking so hard. 

“Got in? To what?”

“VLDU!” Lance was crying again but this time they were happy tears. 

“Holy shit Lance! That’s fucking amazing! You applied again?”

He rubbed at his cheeks, trying to calm down. “Yeah, like two weeks ago! HOLY SHIT HUNK DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS?”

“Holy fuck you’re coming home!”

“I’m coming home! Dios mío, tengo que llamar a mamá! I have to call mamá right now!”

“You can move in with Pidge and me! Our apartment is in this neighborhood like smack dab right between VLDU and Marmora!”

“I’m so fuckng excited! Do you think you could let me call Pidge myself to let her know? I want to see her reaction.” Lance was practically bursting with the urge to start packing now. 

“Lance, you know I can’t keep a secret for my lifeeeee,” Hunk whined.

“Just do your best man,” Lance said, chuckling. 

“Wait,” Hunk’s voice turned solemn, “what are you going to tell Keith?”

Lance stilled. He hadn’t even thought of that. He hadn’t even thought he’d get in. Hadn’t thought of the situation that he’d only be a forty five minute drive away from Keith instead of a plane ride. “Shit. Hunk, what do I tell Keith? Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Hunk I’m totally still in love with him.”

“I know buddy.” Hunk sounded sad for him. He didn’t want that, it made it sound like he didn’t have a chance. That if he came back he and Keith would just have to keep being friends. He wasn’t sure he could ever just be friends with Keith. This last year had confirmed that. 

“I have to get him back Hunk.” There was no other option. 

“I don’t know Lance…”

“What, why not?”

“Do you think things can go back to the way they were before?”

“They have to. They just have to, Hunk.”

For the next week and a half Lance channeled all his energy into exams. It was easy now that he was motivated. Motivated to do well and get back home, see his family and friends, see Keith. He called his family with the news and there was much crying and yelling. “Lance, será mejor que no estés bromeando!”

“No soy mamá, realmente voy a volver a casa.”

He also called Pidge to let her know. She answered and propped her phone up on the coffee table in her and Hunk’s apartment living room, in front of the sofa. 

“Hey, guys! It’s Lance!” Pidge exclaimed, practically bouncing up and down on the sofa as the others gathered around. 

“Hey, Lance,” Hunk sat down beside Pidge who threw her legs over his lap to make more room for the rest of the group. Through the grainy, glitchy quality he made out a series of familiar faces. 

“Lance!” Matt cried out. 

“Hey man,” Shiro greeted him, taking a seat beside Adam and putting his arm around the other man's shoulder. 

“Hey, Pidge. Hey guys. What are you all up to tonight?”

“Mario Kart night!” Matt whooped. 

“When are your exams done, Lance?” Adam asked.

“In a few days,” he answered. “I only have a couple more left.”

Just then a voice came from someone off screen. “Why are you guys over there huddled?” Lance sucked in a breath. He’d know that voice anywhere. Then Keith’s face was visible and Lance blinked. The other boy was wearing grey sweatpants and a red sweatshirt. His hair was longer than the last time he’d seen it. 

“Lance is facetiming!” Matt said. 

Keith stared at Lance who stared back at Keith. Everyone was quiet as they waited for either of the boys to talk. “Hey, Keith,” Lance cursed himself for sounding so breathless.

“Hey.” Was Lance imagining things or did Keith sound as strangled as he did?

“Are you coming home for the summer?” Shiro asked, breaking the growing tension. Lance could have kissed him.

“So Hunk’s been able to keep the secret?” He asked teasingly.

Pidge whirled around to face Hunk. “You’ve been keeping a secret from me?”

Hunk raised his hands in innocence. “Lance.” He pouted. “Why’d you have to do that to me?”

“What secret?” Pidge demanded. “What news?”

Lance grinned as they clamoured for his answer. His eyes went to Keith who still had that shocked look on his face. Upon seeing Lance’s eyes on him Keith shut down and all facial expression left his face. Lance looked away, trying to hide his disappointment. 

“I reapplied to VLDU a few weeks ago and got in.” He couldn’t hold back a massive grin. “I’m transferring for second year, I have a flight as soon as exams are done.”

“WHAT?!” Pidge yelled. “HUNK HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME!”

Hunk clapped his hands over his ears. “Ow, Pidge! Seriously?! Right in my ear?”

“It’s what you deserve for keeping this a secret!” 

She turned back to look at Lance. “You’re moving in with us right?”

He laughed at his friends. “Yeah, Hunk asked a couple days ago.” 

“Congratulations Lance,” Adam said, a broad smile cracking across his face. “Proud of you man.” 

“You can join our next Mario Kart night!” Matt cried out.

“I can’t wait,” Lance said grinning. He looked to see Shiro silently communicating with Keith through raised eyebrows and head inclinations.

Keith caught him looking and cleared his throat. “That’s great, Lance. I’m really happy for you.” Not exactly the response he’d been hoping for. 

“VLDU is only a forty five minute drive from Marmora University.”

“That’s really close.”

“Closer than Altea.”

The screen went blank so he couldn’t see his friends faces anymore and instead it read, “Paused.” He could hear Pidge on the other end. “Shit Mom’s calling. Matt, why is she calling?” 

Lance heard Matt say, “Fuck she’s called me like six times but I didn’t hear because my ringers off.”

“Hold up I better tell Lance.” Pidge’s face filled the screen again. “Hi Lance. Mama Holt is calling and it’s probably because Matt fucked up and she couldn’t reach him so we gotta go.”

“Alright, bye Pidge.”

“Byeeee! We’ll pick you up at the airport,” she rushed out. “Text me the details and we’ll be there. Bye Lance!”

His screen returned to his texts with Pidge. Lance stared at them a moment before letting his phone fall onto his chest. He rubbed his face hard with his hands and turned over in bed so he was facing his wall. Lance zoned out quickly, his eyes glazing over as he was torn between the way Keith had looked, totally adorably caught off guard when he’d first seen Lance and the expression he’d worn when Lance had told him how much closer they would be. 

Was he making it all up in his head because that’s what he wanted to see or was it real? 

Over the next week as he crammed for exams and eventually got them out of the way he also found himself calling Keith every night before he went to bed to talk. Unlike before Lance’s announcement that he was coming home to finish his university education Keith picks up now. Keith’s voice is achingly familiar and comforting and sends shivers through Lance’s body. It was a bit awkward the first night but he was incredibly relieved when it faded fast and they returned to their typical banter. 

“We gotta go to that arcade when I get back.”

“What, that ready and eager for me to whip the floor with your sorry ass?” 

“Shut up Mullet!” But Lance is laughing hard and he doesn’t say the words with any actual venom. He has to resist making a comment about Keith doing other things to his ass.

“You know it’s true, I still have the highest record on SnippersRange.”

“Oh yeah, well guess what? There’s an arcade here and I’ve been practicing.”

“You think you can beat my record?”

“Oh no, I know I can.” 

Keith laughs through the phone at that. “Alright then, Sharpshooter. I look forward to seeing that.” The usage of the old nickname fills Lance’s stomach with butterflies. He yawns wide and glances at his clock, its almost 2:00am. 

“Shit, Keith, it’s almost two in the morning. I gotta get some sleep.” He yawns again, wide and uncontrollable. “I have to wake up for an exam in like five hours.”

“Night Lance.” For a moment, with his eyes closed, Lance can actually imagine Keith is there beside him like old times. But when he opens his eyes reality washes back over him. He’s by himself and Keith might as well be forever away. Not for long, a hopeful voice in his head reminds him. 

“G’night Keith.”

Everything’s gonna be alright, Lance tells himself.


	4. arabella

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N : alright so it's been awhile since i updated this so i just wanted to be totally honest and say i don't super remember all the events of the last couple chapters so the timeline might not make perfect sense or completely line up aha enjoy chapter four!

Keith sat in the front seat of his red Porsche Boxster, idling at the curb outside a store Lance had just popped into to get his photos developed. Not five minutes later Lance was back in the seat at his passenger side, strapping his seat belt across his chest and holding tight to the bag in his lap.

“Floor it, Kogane.”

“Why do you use disposable cameras anyway?” Keith asked as he pulled out of the spot.

“What do you mean?”

“Why don’t you just take pictures on your phone? They’re better quality and you can take a lot without having to buy film or anything.”

“Because I want to be able to tape them up on my wall.”

“Then why not use a Polaroid? They’re automatic and you don’t have to bring them somewhere to get them developed.”

“Yeah, but Polaroids are too tiny.”

“Fair enough,” Keith concedes, though he doesn’t really actually understand why Lance spends so much money on disposable cameras, their film, and their development. “When are the photos from?” He glances over and sees an amused glint in Lance’s eyes.

“You’ll just have to wait until tonight with everyone else to find out?”

Keith rolls his eyes and finds they catch on Lance’s footwear. “So what’s up with the interstellar gator skin boots?” he can’t refrain from inquiring. Lance chuckles and the sound warms Keith’s cheeks. He hopes the glow of the sun setting masks the blush from Lance.

“They were an impulse buy,” Lance explains. Keith listens to him prattle on as they drive, just enjoying the sound of Lance’s voice. He can’t believe he drove Lance out all this way anyway, just to get some photos developed. The boy’s got me wrapped around his finger, Keith admits to himself. Oh the things you’ll do for a person when you’re enamoured with them. I’ll do anything for him.

As Lance goes on Keith glances at the gator skin boots again and is reminded of the less than PG dream he had over the weekend of Lance in Barbarella silver swimsuit and similar boots. He tries to wipe the image from his mind but it’s hard not to think of Lance that way when he’s sitting in his passenger side, the sunsets glow lighting up his side profile as they drive.

The drive back to Lance, Pidge and Hunks apartment feels shorter than it actually is because he’s joking around with Lance. It’s been close to nine months, Keith realises, since Lance moved back home. He feels like he’s experienced whiplash, what with Lance (his childhood best friend to boyfriend and the most important person in his life) moving away and then moving back a year later. Having Lance leave him for university had been awful. It had been like going through withdrawal. Cold turkey. Lance all day everyday, intoxicating, to barely talking to him anymore. Somedays he’d felt like he was losing his mind. He’d gone from seeing and experiencing so much of the world, from feeling present and appreciating every moment of his life and what it had to offer with such a vibrant, charismatic and grounding person for Keith, to feeling like he was just repeating the motions everyday. But now Lance is back and it’s like Keith’s breathing again.

Keith feels like he’s found such a profound connection of mind and soul with Lance that it scares him. It terrifies him that even after a year of separation with next to no communication because of their awkward breakup and the heartache that had followed the moment they’re reunited things snapped back to the way they’d been before like they’d never been apart to begin with. Or almost back to the way they’d been before, Keith thinks. They aren’t back to dating.

Keith is torn from his minor crisis when Lance grabs his shoulder and points to a car pulling out of a spot right outside Lance’s building. “Take that spot! It’s so close!” Keith does his best to not show how affected he is by Lance’s touch as he pulls into the spot. They get out together and Lance makes a show of getting the door for Keith, who feels himself blush all the way from the roots of his hair down to his neck. Ever since Lance got back the two of them have gone back to the way they were right before they got together the first time. It was the same friendship they’d had since they’d met as kids in the same soccer team (the same hugs and physical affection from Lance, the same bickering, the same competitiveness) the only difference was the charged energy that arose in certain situations where Keith had to sit on his hands or make himself sit somewhere further from Lance so as to not act on his impulses and lean into Lance’s warmth or kiss him.

They take the elevator up and Lance sings to the music playing in the elevator.

“Come on, Kogane,” Lance whines, “Sing with me!”

Keith chuckles. “I don’t think so.”

“Why nOoOooOooot?”

“I need at least a couple drinks first.”

A wicked gleam enters Lance’s eyes. “Oh, well I think we can manage that.”

“Fuck off, McClain.” But there’s no real venom in Keith’s words.

The elevator doors open and the two of them make their way down the hall. Lance slides his apartment key from his pocket and into the lock. The lock clicks and Lance motions for Keith to go through first. He shakes his head at Lance’s antics but enters the apartment.

“Hey, you guys are finally back!” Hunk exclaims from the kitchen.

“What took you two so long, did you take a detour?” Pidge wiggles her eyebrows at them. She’s sitting on the kitchen counter beside Hunk who’s chopping up ingredients for the stir fry he’s got going on the stove.

“No, the place I get my photos developed is just kind of far,” Lance says, apparently not hearing (or choosing to ignore) Pidge’s suggestive tone and implied scenario. “I’m just going to go grab some empty photo albums from my room.”

When Lance leaves the room Pidge says, “God, Keith, you are so whipped.”

“Excuse me?”

“Head over heels, dude. Who the fuck drives that far out of the way, at night, just to develop some photos?”

“A good friend?”

“No, dumbass, someone with an ass whooping crush.”

“I do not,” Keith grumbles, but he glances in the direction Lance left. He knows Pidge is right but he’s determined to take this to his grave. Sure, Lance is flirty but that’s the way he is with everyone. Surely he’s imagining the soft looks.

Pidge cackles. “Don’t even try to deny it, man.”

“When is Shiro and Adam getting here?”

“Nuh uh, don’t change the subject.”

“Look Pidge, Lance and I broke up-”

“Yeah, almost two years ago, because he was moving forever away. But now he’s back. I’m not even convinced you ever got over him anyway.”

Keith’s throat tightens and he licks his lips, trying to think of words that will explain the complicated mess of his feelings. How he can’t just act just because he still has feelings for Lance because that doesn’t mean it’s mutual.

“Hey Siri, play 70’s hits,” Lance says as he enters the kitchen, carrying a stack of photo albums. Keith chokes back his words and pushes of the kitchen counter, where he’d been leaning. He needs a moment so Lance doesn’t see his face, a moment to compose himself, because he’s sure that if Lance did he’d be able to read Keith’s face like a book. He uses the excuse of filling himself a cup of water to collect himself. When he turned back the song Bennie & The Jets was playing and Lance had all his albums spread out on the dining table and was taking his newly developed photos out of the envelope they’d been put in.

“Now remember,” Lance started, making eye contact with them all, “no touching unless you really really really can’t help yourself and even then please be careful about only touching the edges and not smudging them with your disgusting, grimy, sticky fingers. Thank you.” With that said Lance started separating the stacks of photos and setting each stack in front of a different, open album.

“Holy shit, Lance.” Pidge pointed to a stack Lance had placed in front of a navy blue, gold trimmed photo album. “When are some of these from?”

“My mamá found a couple in a box in our attic. I also found a few from a few years back and I have some from really recently.”

Keith’s eyes dance across photos and it’s like his whole body has stopped processing. “No kidding,” Keith says, voice strained. He picks up a small stack and slowly going through them. The first stack is a few photos of Keith and Lance in superhero pyjamas, brushing their teeth together. They look around ten years old. Jeez, that’s like a decade ago. The first two of them are candid but the ones after are pictures of Lance and Keith making faces, at each other and at the person behind the camera.

Keith puts them back down carefully where he found them and picks up another small stack. These are of Keith, Lance and Lance’s sister playing at the beach. There are photos of them making sandcastles and burying Lance’s sister with sand. Photos of them with dripping Popsicle's, sticky faces and sticky fingers. There’s one photo he stares at longer than the other beach ones. It’s of a grinning tanned Lance who’s looking right at the camera and a very burnt Keith who is also grinning. But in the photo Keith isn’t looking at the camera, he’s looking at Lance. He swallows hard and puts them back down.

Then he slides over a stack of photos Lance had in front of a different album. From more recent. Keith knows right away when these were taken. The night they’d had their first kiss. In the pictures Lance is wearing a cheetah print coat and holding a bottle Mexican coke in one hand and in the other, in the one he’s got swung around Keith’s leather clad shoulder he’s got an organic cigarette. Keith remembers Lance hadn’t actually smoked it. Just asked Keith if he could have one for a photo because he thought it would look cooler.

With all these pictures, memories are just crashing back into his head. Keith looked over at Lance and knew everything Pidge had said moments ago in the kitchen was true. He was whipped, head over heels and definitely not over Lance. He’d tried, so hard, to let the ache of their breakup fade with time. He’d tried desperately to get over the boy. But now, two years later, his feelings were still so strong for Lance, for the boy in front of him now who was made of outer space. Stardust of freckles across his nose and high cheekbones and impossibly deep dark blue eyes. Lips like the galaxy's edge, well defined and, right now, so hard to reach. Keith remembers the first time he kissed them. Indescribable. He remembers the sensual overflowing, the feeling of everything falling into place.

Lance looks over at him and Keith looses a breath as he stares back, he’s been caught looking at he can’t seem to manage to look away. Lance’s eyes fall to the picture Keith is holding and Kith watches the slight smile spread over Lance’s lips.

Keith stiffens as Lance leans toward him to look closer at the photo. Has to stiffen or else he’s worried he’ll lean closer. He licks his lips and Lance looks back up at his face. “I think I’ll tack this one up on my wall actually.” Lance is giving him one of the soft looks Keith told himself he had to be imagining. Lance is just feeling nostalgic right now, right? That’s what the look is for?

Lance slides the photo from Keith’s hands and moves it to a different stack than the one he’d originally placed it in. Keith stands up and mutters that he has to go to the bathroom.

He moves down the apartment hall, the one with the bedrooms and bathroom. But instead of turning into the bathroom, Keith slips into Lance’s room. As soon as he’s in he stills. The bed has blue covers and sheets, the ceiling is covered in glow in the dark stars, there are small potted plants on a shelf on the wall, fairy lights are strung and the walls are plain white but they’re all covered in photographs from disposable cameras. Keith moves from one end of the room to the other. They’re photos of Lance with his family and friends. Lance with his siblings, his parents, his nieces and nephews. Lance with Pidge and Hunk and Matt. Photos of Lance and himself. Keith’s eyes go straight to Lance in every single one. He has no idea how these photos manage to capture almost every facet of Lance’s personality. He was there for most of these, in the vast majority of them, can remember what was going on at the time that nearly every one of them was taken. There are some that Keith isn’t in but the one’s he is in outnumber those he’s not by a lot.

He feels an ache building in his chest as his eyes go from photo to photo. Memory to memory. From photos of them dressed up for Halloween, grade eight dances and even a few from prom. There are captured images of them wearing life jackets at the end of docks and others of them wearing face masks. Keith stops fully in front of one of Lance leaning against Keith’s chest in front of a fire from when they’d been dating. In the picture Lance is roasting a marshmallow and Keith has his arms wrapped around him. Warmth fills the cavity in Keith’s chest.

He’s so far gone.


End file.
